The atmosphere was uncanny that day: a strangely harmonious concoction of chitter-chatter, occasional sobs and group selfies made the occasion undeniably melancholic. It was our graduation day.
Scanning the crowd, I caught myself stealing a quick glance at her. She was her usual self, smiling effortlessly as her cheerful demeanour resonated with her peers while they engaged in high spirited chitter chatter.
All of a sudden, as if she noticed, she glanced in my direction.
Having caught off guard, I instinctively looked away with lighting quick reflexes, pretending there was nothing going on. But deep down, I knew that I chickened out.
Anxiously, I fled, moving on downstairs, to the office, meeting with the teachers and mentors that guided me along this five year journey. I told myself that there would be other opportunities later in the day, trying to excuse myself for the blunder. But it wasn't convincing - Gregory the Casanova who had previously agreed to help with his DSLR was leaving for home already. It was running late after all.
Realising that time was not on my side, I rushed to upper floor where the melancholic graduation ceremony was held earlier.
You blithering idiot, it's just a picture. Go on. Chop chop.
With these stern words from my conscience, I put my foot down and tried to override the timid half-wit within me. Few tireless minutes of searching later, amongst the throngs of emotional graduates, I spotted her along the worn out, sliding wooden panels of the school hall.
I lugged my seemingly heavy leaden legs and slowly approached her. I tried to ask a simple "can I take a picture with you?", but what came out was just a stammered murmur. She seemed to understand it though, and was kind enough to grant my request.
Since I had no camera, I only had my iPod touch to spare. So I whipped out the device from my pocket and handed it out to a junior nearby and asked for some assistance.
I remember very fondly that I fought long and hard against my own shyness and stood next to her awkwardly, hands tied behind my back. We both smiled as the this memory was captured into a low resolution photo by the mediocre lens I had.
In that instant, I felt my heart leaped for joy. Finally, I did something. I gave her few words of thanks and we exchanged 'Happy Graduation' wishes. Then I hurriedly left.
At the end of the day, it may not be the perfect photo. Maybe our smiles were a little suppressed, superficial even, but I am thankful. Now, I can move on in life with one less regret.
No comments :
Post a Comment